


Can't Bear the Thought

by broodywolf



Series: Marian and Fenris [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fenris doesn't deal well, Hawke gets wounded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-29
Packaged: 2018-04-22 15:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4841480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broodywolf/pseuds/broodywolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Giveaway prize for dammithawke on tumblr, who requested angst with the prompt "Hawke gets injured on the storm coast, probably from being too reckless, and they have to stop and camp/rest on the way back to Kirkwall. Despite injuries, she tries to joke and make light of it. Fenris isn’t amused?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tal-Vashoth. At least six of them, by his count, though there were usually more.

 

"Well, this trip was seeming a little _too_ easy," Hawke said lightly as she drew her staff.

 

She slammed the end of her staff into the ground, sending a fan of ice arcing towards the hulking Qunari, throwing them off balance and making them easy pickings for Fenris. He leapt forward, cutting them down with ease as they still reeled from Hawke's elemental barrage. They towered over him, but couldn't match him for speed, and with Hawke's magic (and the abomination's admittedly helpful paralysis glyphs), the battle was over quickly.

 

He turned towards Hawke, slinging his sword across his back.

 

"Well, that was exciting," she said, smiling and brushing her hands together.

 

"Exciting. Not quite the word I would have chosen," said Fenris. She looked like she was going to laugh at his dour attitude, as she often did, but in an instant her face went slack, eyes wide in fear.

 

Fenris barely had time to react, to register the rustling in the brush behind him, as Hawke sprang forward, shoving him aside with all her weight.

 

As Fenris collided with the sand, there was a sickening, wet noise behind him, and a groaning huff of breath. He gathered himself as quickly as he was able, springing to his feet. No. No, no, no.

 

Hawke had fallen to her knees, a massive Qunari spear jutting out of her shoulder. The Tal-Vashoth was advancing now, hefting another spear. With a gutteral scream of rage, Fenris threw himself forward, not bothering to draw his sword as his markings ignited and he buried his arm to the elbow in the Qunari's chest and _pulled_. He shoved the massive body aside as it fell, rushing to where Hawke was collapsed on the ground, crashing to his knees beside her.

 

"Hawke," he cried, at a loss for any words other than her name as agony ripped through him as acutely as if he'd been the one hit by the spear.

 

"Fenris," she smiled, and there was blood staining her lips. "I'm holey, Fenris," she laughed, and then coughed, a worrying wet sound in her chest.

 

"Do something!" he screamed at Anders, even though the abomination's hands were already blue with healing magic.

 

"Hold her still," Anders said. "I need to get the spear out but I'll have to stop the bleeding quickly or…"

 

Icy fear clenched in Fenris's chest at the implication. He set his hands gently but firmly on Hawke's shoulders. Anders quickly undid his belt, forcing it into Hawke's mouth for her to bite down on.

 

"Hawke, this… is going to hurt," Anders said. Hawke's eyes had gone a little unfocused, but she nodded. Anders gripped the spear and gave it a sharp tug. Hawke screamed around the leather in her mouth, groaning in pain still as Anders placed a glowing hand over the wound when the spear was free.

 

After a few minutes that felt like hours, Anders slumped backwards, the blue glow of his healing magic fading away. Hawke had passed out, but Anders assured him that she would live, though they wouldn't be making it back to Kirkwall that night.

 

Fenris watched over Hawke, pulling blankets out of the pack of provisions they'd brought in case of just this sort of emergency as Anders made a fire. They'd learned the hard way to be prepared for anything on these sort of missions; Hawke had a knack for attracting the worst kinds of trouble.

 

Fenris took first watch, as Anders was depleted from the amount of healing magic he'd spent to save Hawke. Hawke still slept, and Fenris sat beside her, staring into the fire.

 

If she had died…. What had she been thinking? What possessed her to think she had to take a spear meant for him? To think that she might have died in his place… What had he ever done to deserve such? Nothing. He had left her, had brought nothing but pain into her life and yet she continued to request his company, asking him along on her various excursions, or to the Hanged Man for cards. He didn't deserve forgiveness, didn't deserve to be allowed a place in her life still.

 

There was a soft groan beside him then, and Hawke stirred. He reached out a hand to keep her from sitting up.

 

"We've made camp," he said, "the abomination said it would be unwise to return to Kirkwall tonight with you in this state."

 

"Probably wise," she sighed.

 

"Why, Hawke?"

 

"Why is it wise not to go back to Kirkwall? Well, there are a lot of answers to that question, Fenris. I could list them for you, but-"

 

" _Hawke_. Why did you do it?" he growled. "That spear should have hit me. You should have let it hit me." He glared at her. She had to understand that what she had done was absurd, unacceptable.

 

"I couldn't let you die," she said, as if it were that simple. As if it made any sense at all.

 

"You should have," he spat.

 

"Fenris-"

 

"No, Hawke. You can't- You cannot die!" he shouted at her, willing her to understand.

 

"My, my, Fenris, I didn't know you cared," she joked, but her voice was slightly too high, her eyes too harsh, narrowed slightly.

 

He snarled his frustration at her. "Fine! Die, then, and I'll be free of your insipid prattling!"

 

He scrambled to his feet and stalked away, only to fall to his knees in the sand when he was safely out of sight. He pressed his face into one hand as the other punched uselessly at the ground. What had he done… He was broken, toxic, even when he tried to express how important Hawke was to him he only ended up hurting her. Would she hate him after this? She should, he thought. He certainly deserved no less.

 

It was still his watch, though, and he would never forgive himself if something were to happen to her because he stormed off like a fool. He marched back to the camp, though he sat down on the opposite side of the fire, a careful distance from Hawke. Her eyes, however, were closed, either asleep or feigning it to avoid speaking to him.

 

The next day they made it slowly back to Kirkwall. Hawke stubbornly refused any help from him, though she had to lean heavily on her staff for support.

 

Anders peeled off when they entered the city to head towards his clinic in Darktown, leaving Fenris and Hawke to walk back to Hightown together in strained silence.

 

She didn't speak a single word to him, carefully looking anywhere but in his direction the whole way. He knew it was better this way, that she was completely right to hate him, but he couldn't bear it. He was selfish, ultimately. Hawke was the only good thing in his life and he would take whatever he could. So when they reached the door to her estate, his mind was made up to apologize.

 

"Hawke, I-"

 

"Not right now, Fenris. I'm tired. I just… I just can't right now."

 

With that she turned on her heel and disappeared inside, leaving him standing there alone, staring at the door.

 

With a bitter laugh, he turned away, walking the rest of the way back to his decrepit mansion in a fog. He'd finally done it. The abomination was right all along, he thought. Hawke had finally seen sense, seen what a broken, ugly thing he was inside, and she'd done the reasonable thing and pushed him away.

 

He would only have ended up breaking her, too, after all. This was what he'd expected all along, and it was probably for the best. 

 

He had not expected it to hurt this much.


	2. Chapter 2

Though her shoulder was still quite tender, she felt much closer to her usual self after a hearty meal and a good night’s rest in her own bed. After passing a gloriously lazy day curled up by the fire with her mabari and a book, she decided it would do her some good to get out of the house. A decision that was rather convenient, since it happened to be their usual Wicked Grace night at the Hanged Man.

 

She made her way first over to Fenris’s mansion so that they could walk to Lowtown together, as was their routine on Wicked Grace nights. Hesitating for just a moment, she knocked on his door perhaps just slightly more timidly than she ordinarily would. She waited, wondering if he had heard her knock at all.  


 

She was just reaching out to knock a little more loudly when the door opened.

 

There were deep circles under Fenris’s eyes, and his white hair hung lank, matted slightly to his forehead. And he was staring at her open-mouthed like she was the Blessed Andraste and the sun shone out of her ass.

 

“Hawke,” he said finally, visibly shaking himself.

 

“Fenris?” She replied, a slight question in her voice at his exaggerated reaction.

 

“You’re here,” he said. He’d finally managed to regain some control over his expression, but the awe had not left his eyes.

 

“Yes. I am here. Like I am every week…?”

 

Fenris blinked, and his head turned away from her, eyes cast downwards.

 

“You… you didn’t think I would come back.” She saw him tense slightly, eyes falling shut, and her heart broke for him. She ached to throw her arms around him, to promise that she would never leave his side, but to do so would be to throw all of the unspoken rules they’d lived by these last years to the wind and she knew it was not her place to make that choice. 

 

“Fenris, we had a fight. You know that, right? I lost my patience with you, and I am sorry. But I will always come back, you must know that.” Okay, so maybe she would just bend their rules a little. He had to know, though. She had to make sure he knew. 

 

An uncertain smile crept slowly onto his face, and Hawke felt she could breathe again. 

 

“So. Wicked Grace?” she said, smiling back at him. 

 

“Yes.” 

 

Neither of them moved for a moment, though.

 

“Fenris?”

 

“Yes, Hawke?”

 

“You, um... You might want to bathe first,” she said, with a nervous chuckle. 

 

“Hmm. You may have a point," he said, reaching up to run a hand through his dingy hair.   


 

“I’ll wait for you.” She smiled. He turned, waving for her to follow him inside. They walked through the deteriorating once-grand entryway back to the few rooms Fenris actually kept habitable. Fenris paused at the doorway leading on to the bath, looking back at her.

 

“Thank you, Hawke.”

 

It was obvious in the deep, sincere rumble of his voice that he didn’t mean just for waiting while he bathed. 

“Anytime, Fenris.”


End file.
